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“Yo, Stone!” Tank’s deep voice calls out, pulling me from my thoughts.
I turn and arch a brow in the big guy’s direction. “What’s up?”
“Ace wants to talk to you.” He gives me a look I can’t decipher. “Did you fuck something up?”
I grin. “Me? I never fuck shit up. He probably wants to put me in charge of the whole damn thing.” I laugh at the look Tank gives me that says he thinks I’m full of shit. “I’ll be right there.”
“Make it snappy, Viking.”
I laugh and flip him the bird, rolling my eyes at the nickname the club whores and old ladies think I don’t know about. I stamp out the cigarette in the ashtray and head inside, finding Ace in his office. I tap on the door and he turns, his smile fading as he motions me inside. “Come in, Stone.”
Tank was right. This doesn’t sound good. “What’s up?”
Ace extends his arm in my direction, handing me his phone with the heavy-duty black case. “Call for you.”
“For me?” I frown at the phone and then Ace because it doesn’t make sense. “Who the fuck would call your phone for me?”
His serious expression shifts. “Take the damn phone and find out.” He shoves it forward until I grab the phone. “Don’t touch anything,” he motions to his desk before leaving me alone in his office.
“Hello?”
“Stone.” My father’s deep voice sounds over the phone, and I freeze.
“Dad. This is a surprise. Everything all right?” Tension coils in my belly because the only thing I can think is that my dad is calling because something is wrong. “How’s Ma?”
“She’s good. Fine. As crazy as ever.”
I let out a long exhale of relief. “Okay.”
“It’s safe, son. You can come home now. Back to Texas.” The silence between us is heavy with expectation.
Adjusting my grip on the phone, I scoff. “Safe? Dad, when have I ever made my moves based on what’s safe?” My voice drips with defiance. This is me he’s talking to. Since when did I pick the easy path?
Dad’s response is calm, unfazed by my pushback. “Stone, I get you. I do. More than you give me credit for. Yeah, you’ve carved out your spot in Angel Harbor, but Opey is calling you back. It’s over. Finally.”
I run a hand through my hair, my frustration tangling with curiosity. “Dad, I really appreciate all that. What you and Mom have done, but I didn’t just find a parking spot here, Dad. I’ve laid down roots.”
There’s a patience in his voice that almost pisses me off more. “I’m aware, and I respect that. But family is family, and the mess that drove you away? It’s been cleaned up.”
“Cleaned up? All of it? I’m good now? Free?” The idea seems too good to be true. I left to escape trouble and find a slice of peace, something I wasn’t sure I could have back home. And now Dad’s suggesting I just throw in the towel on Angel Harbor.
“Yeah, Stone. It’s over.” His voice carries a certainty that’s hard to ignore. “Time to come home, son. Your place at the table awaits. Time for a new chapter.”
Leaning against the desk, I let those words sink in. “And if I’m not ready to turn the page?”
Dad lets out a weary sigh. “Then stay put. It’s your life, Stone. But remember, you’re my son. Texas, Angel Harbor, the moon—doesn’t matter. You’ll always be my son and have a home here.”
That gets to me. More than I want to admit.
I take a deep, fortifying breath. My defiance begins to melt into something resembling acceptance. “All right, Dad. I’ll head back. But give me a few days. I gotta get my head right.”
Dad says, “Get with Ace. He’ll make the arrangements to get you back here.”
I blink, a bit thrown by the mention of Ace. “Arrangements? What, like a farewell tour?” There’s a hint of my usual sarcasm, but it’s tempered by curiosity now.
“No, son,” Dad chuckles, the sound gruff but amused. “Logistics, you know? He’s in the loop on this.”
My eyebrows shoot up. Trust Dad to have things more organized than I expected. “In the loop, huh? And here I was thinking I’d just pack up and go.”
